Again, the years passed by. One year after her first show she was known
outside the walls of Paris, too, and another year later she had her own
show at the Moulin Rouge. From night to night the sums increased the men
were willing to pay for her, from night to night she became more famous.
At first she often came to me during the day, laid her head in my lap and talked about her experiences, her dreams, her fears and worries. I comforted her, calmed her down, helped her as much as I could. But with everything I did, I couldn't make one wish come true. She wanted to be an actress, a real actress, at home on the stages of the world. An actress like Sarah Bernhardt. She had always adored her, her picture was hung up in her dressing room, once I could give her the chance to see Sarah Bernhardt acting in a theatre in Paris, and with every day passing by, her wish grew and grew.
It was nearly the only thing she could speak about: To be as famous as her, not to be only a courtesan, but to be loved truly, to own no other worth but her inner ones. And I wanted to make it come true, I wanted so badly, but I wasn't able to, for I didn't have the money. So it was a vicious circle we couldn't escape from. Not without help.
I went to every rich man who came to the Moulin Rouge, I implored, I begged, but they all had too much interest in the brothel to invest in rebuilding the Moulin Rouge into a theatre. They all were filled too much with lust to understand my requests.
Obviously, the only one understanding me was a dwarf called Toulouse- Lautrec, visiting the Moulin Rouge often and with enthusiasm. He was one of the revolutionaries believing in the bohemian's victory. There was just one disadvantage: He adored love as the greatest goddess of all, and he wanted to use the theatre to spread his convictions. Nevertheless, he had a good head on his shoulders, filled with good ideas, and the upper class of Paris would have liked a play with those themes, so it was not of value whether I liked it or not. Satine was gone of him, and it happened that she spent whole afternoons with him. I even feared she could have fallen in love, because one evening she came to me, gave her head a rest in my lap and asked me what love was. I didn't know what to answer.
"Love is a strong feeling", I tried to explain. "Love makes you doing things you wouldn't do normally. Love drives you mad." I wasn't convinced myself by what I said, but I hoped she would believe me and not ask anymore. But I was wrong.
"Toulouse says, love could move the mountains, and she was the only thing mankind could believe in", she said. "Toulouse says, love is the most wonderful thing in the world."
"Toulouse says many things during the day.", I answered and uttered a groan.
"But…" She paused. "I want to become acquainted with love. I want to have my own opinion."
"Honey, love isn't made for us."
"Why?" She drew characters on my knee with her finger. "Are you telling me we couldn't love? Toulouse says, everybody can love. And you cannot do anything against it. You fall in love, he says, and you're powerless against this feeling."
I passed my hand through my hair. "Satine, Toulouse is a blather."
"It isn't true?" She seemed excited and a bit shocked. "Toulouse read books to me in which love is the main thing, where humans are dealing with greatest dangers and even are dying for their love, because they don't want to be separated from each other. And this is a lie? I cannot believe this!"
"Satine…"
She sat up abruptly and looked directly into my eyes. "I want to become acquainted with love, Harold, and you cannot forbid it."
"I can and I will. You must not fall in love, Satine."
Unbelieving she stared at me. "I must not fall in love?"
"You must not fall in love", I repeated calmly, but inside, I was cursing for Toulouse had destroyed everything. I had tried to keep her away from love, and then this dreamer came along and destroyed everything I had build up with so much difficulty. "That's the way it is. We must not. No one pays for you when he loves you and you loves him, too. He's expecting everything for free. And this will force us to live on the street. You mustn't do this. You have to see."
Without a word she left me and hardly spoke with me the next days. I know that I had hurt her deeply, but I didn't have another choice. The only thing I could do was going on trying to make her dream of being an actress come true. Without any results.
Some weeks later, Satine came to me and said that she had thought a lot about my words.
"I read books", she said. "There are some in which love is wonderful, like those which Toulouse read to me. But he hid something. For love always ends in jealousy, madness or hate. You're acting like a fool when you're in love, and when it's over, you go mad, you drink, you destroy your own life."
I looked at her in astonishment. "Why can you read?"
"Toulouse lent me some of his books, and I taught myself to read by learning by heart what he had read to me. It was easy. Everything is easy when you want it." She closed her eyes shortly. "I don't want to fall in love. I don't want to end up like the lovers in those stories. I want to be free and independent. And I want to live. Love doesn't feed me, love doesn't give me money."
I nodded. "So, you understand me?"
"Yes", she replied. "I understand you. And I'm sorry for my foolish behaviour." She smiled. "I'm just a little girl that has to learn what is important in life. Love is… a word. Imagined by poets, believed by dreamers. And you were right, Toulouse is a blather."
I don't know whether she believed really what she said, for she was a dreamer, too, who was imagining a life as a famous actress. But I noticed that she spoke about it less. Obviously, she had accepted to dance as a courtesan in the Moulin Rouge forever, and I felt a cold and a distance between me, having forced her to live this life, and her.
At first she often came to me during the day, laid her head in my lap and talked about her experiences, her dreams, her fears and worries. I comforted her, calmed her down, helped her as much as I could. But with everything I did, I couldn't make one wish come true. She wanted to be an actress, a real actress, at home on the stages of the world. An actress like Sarah Bernhardt. She had always adored her, her picture was hung up in her dressing room, once I could give her the chance to see Sarah Bernhardt acting in a theatre in Paris, and with every day passing by, her wish grew and grew.
It was nearly the only thing she could speak about: To be as famous as her, not to be only a courtesan, but to be loved truly, to own no other worth but her inner ones. And I wanted to make it come true, I wanted so badly, but I wasn't able to, for I didn't have the money. So it was a vicious circle we couldn't escape from. Not without help.
I went to every rich man who came to the Moulin Rouge, I implored, I begged, but they all had too much interest in the brothel to invest in rebuilding the Moulin Rouge into a theatre. They all were filled too much with lust to understand my requests.
Obviously, the only one understanding me was a dwarf called Toulouse- Lautrec, visiting the Moulin Rouge often and with enthusiasm. He was one of the revolutionaries believing in the bohemian's victory. There was just one disadvantage: He adored love as the greatest goddess of all, and he wanted to use the theatre to spread his convictions. Nevertheless, he had a good head on his shoulders, filled with good ideas, and the upper class of Paris would have liked a play with those themes, so it was not of value whether I liked it or not. Satine was gone of him, and it happened that she spent whole afternoons with him. I even feared she could have fallen in love, because one evening she came to me, gave her head a rest in my lap and asked me what love was. I didn't know what to answer.
"Love is a strong feeling", I tried to explain. "Love makes you doing things you wouldn't do normally. Love drives you mad." I wasn't convinced myself by what I said, but I hoped she would believe me and not ask anymore. But I was wrong.
"Toulouse says, love could move the mountains, and she was the only thing mankind could believe in", she said. "Toulouse says, love is the most wonderful thing in the world."
"Toulouse says many things during the day.", I answered and uttered a groan.
"But…" She paused. "I want to become acquainted with love. I want to have my own opinion."
"Honey, love isn't made for us."
"Why?" She drew characters on my knee with her finger. "Are you telling me we couldn't love? Toulouse says, everybody can love. And you cannot do anything against it. You fall in love, he says, and you're powerless against this feeling."
I passed my hand through my hair. "Satine, Toulouse is a blather."
"It isn't true?" She seemed excited and a bit shocked. "Toulouse read books to me in which love is the main thing, where humans are dealing with greatest dangers and even are dying for their love, because they don't want to be separated from each other. And this is a lie? I cannot believe this!"
"Satine…"
She sat up abruptly and looked directly into my eyes. "I want to become acquainted with love, Harold, and you cannot forbid it."
"I can and I will. You must not fall in love, Satine."
Unbelieving she stared at me. "I must not fall in love?"
"You must not fall in love", I repeated calmly, but inside, I was cursing for Toulouse had destroyed everything. I had tried to keep her away from love, and then this dreamer came along and destroyed everything I had build up with so much difficulty. "That's the way it is. We must not. No one pays for you when he loves you and you loves him, too. He's expecting everything for free. And this will force us to live on the street. You mustn't do this. You have to see."
Without a word she left me and hardly spoke with me the next days. I know that I had hurt her deeply, but I didn't have another choice. The only thing I could do was going on trying to make her dream of being an actress come true. Without any results.
Some weeks later, Satine came to me and said that she had thought a lot about my words.
"I read books", she said. "There are some in which love is wonderful, like those which Toulouse read to me. But he hid something. For love always ends in jealousy, madness or hate. You're acting like a fool when you're in love, and when it's over, you go mad, you drink, you destroy your own life."
I looked at her in astonishment. "Why can you read?"
"Toulouse lent me some of his books, and I taught myself to read by learning by heart what he had read to me. It was easy. Everything is easy when you want it." She closed her eyes shortly. "I don't want to fall in love. I don't want to end up like the lovers in those stories. I want to be free and independent. And I want to live. Love doesn't feed me, love doesn't give me money."
I nodded. "So, you understand me?"
"Yes", she replied. "I understand you. And I'm sorry for my foolish behaviour." She smiled. "I'm just a little girl that has to learn what is important in life. Love is… a word. Imagined by poets, believed by dreamers. And you were right, Toulouse is a blather."
I don't know whether she believed really what she said, for she was a dreamer, too, who was imagining a life as a famous actress. But I noticed that she spoke about it less. Obviously, she had accepted to dance as a courtesan in the Moulin Rouge forever, and I felt a cold and a distance between me, having forced her to live this life, and her.